


The Telling Clock

by Castiel_Bumblebee



Series: Look In The Mirror [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:07:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1414477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Bumblebee/pseuds/Castiel_Bumblebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clock and the intruder conspire against the mind. A reflection of depression and anxiety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Telling Clock

Tick, tick, tock goes the ever-slowing clock. It drags on seconds for as long as it dares, leaving the beings that depend on its beats to regulate their lives to hold their breath in anticipation for the minutes to pass. It conspires with the monsters hidden in the minds of the unfortunate. It speaks with the nontangible creatures to offer more time to break apart its host piece by painful piece. The clock gets to meander in its work, and the monster gets to attack with more ferocity than previously as it has all the time needed to catch the minds as they wander. The target gets nothing except for pain.

At first they don’t notice as the clock begins the process and the monster waits in the shadows of other’s words and actions for its cue. As the plan progresses with the unwitting help of those surrounding the target the strength to resist the tempting call of the siren fades. ‘If everyone says it, it must be true’ is the only coherent thought of the target during these times. This isn’t a trial for the target. It is a death sentence they must fight to defend themselves from.

They are warring against a partnership that has the cards stacked in their favor. Weapons will be all but useless in this battle, but yet words and actions only make the smallest of dents in the defenses of the writhing siren and company. The future seems bleaker than the pits of hell to the target, and they are sure that not even the strongest person in the entire universe could face it successfully, let alone them.

Sighing as they feel the monster take their hand in a vice like grip, they are forced along the paths of horror that their mind has become. There are skeletons that shouldn’t be there, grenades waiting to blow with the touch of tissue paper, and shinning relics of the good times locked away harshly, likely never to be seen again. All these things clutter the paths, and they are numb to it all. Pain is nothing now; it never will be again. They only wish for their clock to finally slow to a halt, and their demon to finally feast on the broken creature it has created. Tick, tick, tock, the clicking of the clock was only ever destined to stop.


End file.
